Forbidden Love
by TheBestHasYetToCome
Summary: The force is pulling two very powerful force-sensitives together, but for what reason? Can their love survive the strain of sides? Rey and Kylo;Reylo pairing.
1. Chapter 1

He stared at her absentmindedly. She had been out for hours now and he was wondering if she would ever come to. Just then she saw her eyes flutter open and scowl at the interrogation light that burned her retinas.

 _ **Finally**_

 _"Where am I,"_ she spat, disdain clearly evident in her tone.

 _ **"You're aboard Starkiller Base — the First Order HQ."**_ He clarified

She looked down at the state her captivity: the metal bonds around her arms and legs and realised she was bound to a restraint board. _Blummin' fantastic_.

Eerily he was watching her still, studying her even. It made it all the worse that she couldn't see the expressions on his face to wager what he might be thinking.

He rose then, soundlessly and she could feel sweat beading her forehead at what was to come. She struggled with all her might against the bonds, straining to get away from him, terrified by what he could do to her.

He simply stopped, and brought his face inches from her own.

 _"I'll never tell you where it is,"_ She fired, trying to quell the raging thoughts within.

He just leered at her.

 _ **"I can take anything I want."**_

The implication of his statement frightened her yet allured her all at the same time. He had said it almost _softly_ yet so resolute she was sure she couldn't fight back.

He took off his helmet, depositing it on an ashen board with a gentle 'thump' to reveal a shock of long raven hair and a youth to match her own.

Handsome was seriously an understatement.

She had been expecting some disfiguration or mutilation. Why else would a man hide his face? But low and behold was an incarnate of sex itself.

 _Great._

She could feel his breath on her skin, smell his masculine pheromones. All her senses being invaded and intoxicated by _hi_ m.

He gently brought his fingertips to her temples, barely grazing the skin and closed his eyes to reach her mind.

She wouldn't know how personal this was or how taboo by both Jedi and Sith standards. There was no greater intimacy one could reach than this and the thought excited him. He desperately wanted to know what made her tick. She was an enigma to say the least, a puzzle he **needed** to solve. He knew she was more than a scavenger, knew there was so much potential bubbling inside of her, bursting to be set free. Yet he also wanted her. Wanted her so much it went against everything he had come to understand. This was surely the forces doing. It had to be. Why else would he feel this compulsion in every fiber of his being; every Medi-chlorain of his cells?

He surged through her, seeing her truly: her light; her essence. He was drawn to it like a moth to a flame, simultaneously blinded and fascinated. Oh how he could stay in here forever. The pleasure of being inside her was overwhelming. All of his training had not prepared him for this, for _her_.

 _ **"I can see the island in your mind,"**_ he drawled.

He was losing focus now. His initial purpose discarded and forgotten in favor of _knowing_ her.

" _ **So alone... oh so lonely,"**_ he could feel her suffering as though it were his own. Her dreams, desires, fears and fantasies. He saw them all. Nothing was hidden from him.

 _ **"You view Han Solo as though he were a father—well let me tell you, he would've disappointed you."**_

It was at that moment he came across a barrier in her mind, one door he couldn't get passed no matter how hard he tried.

 _"Get Out of my head!"_

He pulled out suddenly, afraid of getting lost in Rey and backed away from her as though burned.

A millenia seemed to pass in time with both of them wordlessly looking at the other.

Rey had never experienced anything like that before, that _closeness._ She knew a door once opened could be stepped through in either direction and she had seen _him_ just as he had seen her albeit not as much.

She couldn't shake the feeling of how _good_ it felt, how good he felt with their minds entwined together. She had felt a jolt of electricity when the bond was formed and was taken aback at how seamlessly they connected. From Kylo's mind that meant they were both 'force-sensitives'. Force Telepathy with a force-null wasn't possible in both directions. There needed to be a charged conduit from a high level of Medi-chlorians by both participants. That much she had gleaned.

She wanted him to know that she had seen _him_ , wanted him to know she empathized with him as crazy as it sounded.

" _You're afraid," she whispered, "afraid you'll never be as good as Darth—_

She was cut off by his lips on her own and she melted into his passionate embrace...


	2. Chapter 2

She was losing herself in him, falling into the black chasms of his darkness for what seemed like eternity. Yet at the same time flying, soaring and rising to heights beyond the heavens.

She itched to touch him, _feel_ him, to scour every inch of him. But constraints were a cruel forbearance.

She wanted to run her hands through his silky locks and pull him closer, impossibly so until their bodies were flush against the other.

She wanted so many things that her rationale and all logic begin to buckle under its weight, breaking through the ice of her defenses.

His kisses _**consume**_ her, heart, body and mind and she doesn't know if she can give him anymore. He wants _**all**_ of her though, wants her very soul. And she's still falling; still falling into the oblivion...

She sees her force signature as a blinding light around her, hugging her closely amongst tumultuous skies.

Clouds like coal seized the ether whilst stormy seas raged below.

She takes a tentative step among the waters to find she levitates on its surface. The only area where the chaos abates.

It feels so cold here, so desolate that even the wind is a torrent of darkness.

She doesn't know how she got here but she knows she's inside his mind or maybe his soul. His essence is like a drug to her and she can't get enough of him. For once she's completely paralyzed with happiness because he feels like _home._ As though she's finally returned to where she belongs.

Her aura's light sways, rolling in waves and flickering like a glowing flame. She can feel the flow of the force inside and around her, permeating her every cell. She can't think of a time that she's felt more _alive_.

She focuses and expands the energy outwards, letting tendrils of light coax this world to peace.

Her light filters through the clouds as streaks of golden beams, penetrating the darkness above and casting out the shadows below.

She wants to absorb all of his darkness, take all of his anguish away but she's not strong enough...

Suddenly a tornado of both black and white light approached, spiraling together in tandem. She sees it crackle and sizzle at the Union as though resisting the quickly grows in size and before long she is swept up within it and thrust out of his world; out of the recesses of his mind; out of the essence of his soul

 _He forced me out_ she thinks, before elapsing into full consciousness.

She opens her eyes seconds later to find a very sexy and disheveled Kylo Ren staring down at her heatedly, leaning on both arms above her against the restraining board. His eyes are as stormy as the seas and she can't help but drown in them as her drinks her in.

Being inside him was like being engulfed in warm water and she'd never wanted to leave. Now that she had, she felt like a babe who'd been dragged from the womb too soon. Everything was colder, harsher and that much more meaner.

But remnants of their bond still remained, now set in stone and solidified like concrete. She could feel it as a pleasant tingle at the back of her mind, buzzing ever so slightly from the aftermath of its formation.

Nudging it a little sent a wave of pleasure crashing down her spine and straight to her very core. _Gods she_ _ **loved**_ _telepathy_.

Kylo visibly shook at that, feeling it too. What _**had**_ he done? He hadn't meant to form a bond of any sorts. That had manifested all on its own, almost as if it was _destined_ to happen.

He'd heard of something like this happening from his Holocron and from scrolls of the Sith Archive during the earlier stages of his training. It was called _'The Legend of the Twin Flame'_ and had been written all the way back in 13,000,000,000 BBY even before the Battle of Yavin. It was as old a dirt itself.

The legend stated that: ' _Twin Flames' originated from the same soul essence that was created by the force: the source of all; the energy field that connected all living things in the galaxy, which creates both the masculine and feminine aspects of creation. This one essence or soul divided itself into two equal and opposite halves in order to experience relationship and form. Their journey and mission upon the wheel of life is one of completion and unity. It is said that before this journey is complete, each soul must experience the full curriculum the galaxy has to offer before being reunited as one..._

The story echoed back to him now like something long lost that had finally been found. But he brushed the stray thought away, favoring instead to occupy his mind with the present. He could speak to Snoke later about it if need be.

Watching her, he could see how she struggled to hold onto her composure through bated breaths and trembling limbs. She had no training in telepathy and the whole ordeal unexperienced was an immense strain to the mind. If she hadn't been a force-sensitive then her nervous system would have been fried by now.

Moving closer to her until he was a hairsbreadth away, he brushed a loose strand from her face and watched her reaction to his caress.

He gathered the force around him, concentrating it within his left hand before hovering it over her head and pulling on her consciousness.

 _ **"I'm sorry about this"**_

 _"What are you—"_

And with that she collapsed into unconsciousness.

He winced as the bond grew cold in his mind, and undid Rey's restraints, gathering her lithe body in his arms and carrying her out of the cell bridal style with his black cloak billowing behind him...


	3. Chapter 3

He is engulfed in silence — save for the clipped, methodical strokes of his own boots resounding off the silicone floors. He ruminates about what he should say, how much he should say about _that_ and _her_. He still doesn't understand it himself and he feels it begin to slowly eat away at him inside.

Snoke was his mentor and master and his loyalty lay to him and him alone without question. But this was not a matter of duty or obligation. No. This was much more delicate and infinitely more complex.

It was a matter of the heart

This bond they had, this ' _connection_ ' should've never have happened; shouldn't have even been feasible. Yet somehow despite the laws of the force and the galaxy, it had.

 _Soul bonds did not just 'happen' —_ he knew that for sure. Soul bonds formed when both participants were aligned with the same vibration of force energy and had to give a mutual consent with the exchange of vows for it to even have a remote chance of working.

There had only ever been 6 successful incidences of it actually working out of the entire history of the galaxy.

That thought alone frightened him.

Not to mention its spontaneity...

He walked through the titanium blast doors to enter a Telecom chamber where Master Snoke was waiting for him.

 _ **"Master of the Knights of Ren, what is it you have to report?"**_ He spoke slowly, enunciating each word with a forceful undertone.

He spoke back with the same cold detachment from the projection transmitter , " _It is about the map to Skywalker. I believe it no longer necessary."_

 _ **"It is from Skywalker that the new Jedi will be born. If you do not find him then it will spell the doom of the First Order and destroy everything we have been working to create."**_

 _He retorted shrewdly, "Master, I believe I have indeed found and apprehended that Jedi. Can you not feel the shift in the force?"_

The Supreme Leader leaned forward, his interest now piqued.

 _ **"Show me."**_

Kylo allowed him to view his memories of the past 24 hours and he saw them flash through his mind like a fast-forward film: his interrogation of Poe Dameron, the first order assault on Takodana, chasing Rey through the forest and then capturing her, his interrogation with her, entering her mind—

He abruptly cut him off, erecting tall impenetrable walls around his psyche, not wanting to reveal anymore.

With that Snoke frowned, clearly displeased. He knew his apprentice was hiding something. Could long before sense his inner turmoil and fear in the force and — there was something else...A thought he was struggling to conceal and... an _emotion_ he was desperately battling to suppress. _Most interesting..._

 _ **"The force is strong with her. Without question she is the cause of this disturbance. The force I see fixes on her as a linchpin of the future..."**_

He decided to test something. _**"But much conflict I see...Her heart wavers like the pendulum of a clock...so confused."**_

Something feral awoke in Kylo then at the thought of Snoke invading her mind. It was _his_ domain.

Anger coursed through his veins like molten lava, infecting his bloodstream, rippling through his skin like fire and setting every nerve ablaze.

He reeled his anger back in through clenched fists and curbed his tongue, "I _believe she would make a powerful asset to our cause in time, and under my tutelage. I will sway her to the dark side,_ " he said, his tone dangerously low.

Snoke was right in his assumptions: he had _feelings_ for the girl...

He spoke gravely now, _**"You can't allow yourself to become attached to that girl."**_

Snoke's words ring in Kylo's head like a death sentence.

 _ **"Have you forgotten the oath you took? The bedrock our forefather, Darth Bane, lay down for this organisation; the Sith Order?"**_

Kylo hadn't forgotten, how could he? It was the Sith Code; the doctrine of the Sith Order itself.

He recited the code mindlessly, having committed it to memory like a mantra:

 _"Peace is a lie, there is only chaos_

 _There is_ _ **no love**_ _, there is_ _ **only passion**_

 _Through passion I gain strength_

 _Through strength I gain power_

 _Through power I gain victory_

 _Through victory, my chains are broken_

 _The force shall set me free..."_

 _ **"Do you understand now, my young apprentice? Love is the path to the light side. Love leads to attachment. Attachment leads to weakness. Weakness leads to loss of power and exploitation."**_

Kylo simply hung his head in defeat, letting his long, jet-black hair fall over the shadows of his face.

His voice was thick with darkness, _"I understand completely."_

What was even worse was that Snoke was unequivocally right. His entanglements _would_ jeopardise the order and all that it stood for.

He felt as if he'd been doused with a bucket of cold water and that he could now see clearly where his allegiance lied.

Snoke knew he had still much to learn, but he was becoming more and more powerful as the days went by.

He had taken an interest in Kylo primarily because he had the uncanny ability to balance both the light and the dark side of the force within him. Which made him very, very potent. And for this, he was prone to give into occasional moments where he veered towards the other side.

The girl was also very intriguing. She had much potential, he could feel it. The two of them together would be unstoppable.

 _ **"You will train her in our ways. If she does not succumb to the seduction of the dark side then you must kill her."**_

Kylo feels murderous at his last sentence and he bites his lip hard, painfully so, enough to draw blood and revels in the feel of the crimson river running down the side of his lips. He savors the coppery, metallic taste that it brings on his palate. A welcome distraction.

He crouches low with his fist to the ground as a sign of acquiescence, _"Yes, Master."_

The hologram before him promptly disintegrates and Kylo is left alone in the chamber. His aura is heavy, dense and oppressive. His expression indecipherable.

Suddenly he is snapped out of his reverie as he feels a warm tug on his psyche.

 _She is awake..._


	4. Chapter 4

As her awareness begins to trickle through the gloom of comatose, her sleep-addled mind registers the feel of silk wrapped around her frame like a cocoon. It feels cool against her skin, and she pulls it closer, snuggling further into its soft confines.

A throbbing in her mind is then brought to her attention. It feels heavy, full even and strangely comforting. She makes a note to self to query that later...

For now though, she just wants to immerse herself in this fabric fortress and the luxury of safety she has scarcely known.

She notices this 'fabric fortress' is a pooling sea of black bed sheets and she buries herself within them, actually _moaning_ at the scent it oozes. It smells of musk and leather and she inhales it in further, letting out a sigh of delight as her senses are blissfully overwhelmed.

A niggly voice at the back of her mind pushes to the forefront: _It smells of_ _ **him...**_

She shoots up in alarm as her memories bleed-through into her cognizance, and is quickly overcome with a wave of guilt.

Since being apprehended, thinking had been a indulgence she could not afford. Now though, she was attacked by a maelstrom of frantic and anxious thoughts for her friends.

 _Did they get off Takodana alive? Would they be safe? Did they escape the First Order? Were they injured or dying? Were they being tortured at this minute? Would they come looking for her? Would they be caught? And Fin, what would happen to him, especially being a defector? Would they hurt him? Kill him? Would they torture all of them?_ _ **Kill**_ _all of them?_

She feels her eyes sting with tears that do not fall and a grief that racks her heart. She has never felt so utterly helpless in all of her life. Not even when she was an infant struggling to survive on a eighth of a portion on Jakku.

She lifts her legs to her chest, finding solace when at last her head stops whirling. There's a presence with her the whole time, a constant beacon of reassurance in her mind, soothing her pain and fighting off her worries.

She lifts her head then from her knees to find _him_ sitting there at the far end of the room with his eyes boring into her.

He doesn't say anything, doesn't have to. Something unsaid passes between them, an understanding that transcends the notion of empathy itself.

 _"How long have you been there?"_ She whispers, her voice shaking.

He's focusing on her so intensely that she feels butterflies rise to her stomach.

 _ **"The whole time"**_

He feels himself being dragged in and he hears Snoke's words come unbidden to his mind: _You can't allow yourself to become attached to that girl..._

 _ **"You need a teacher"**_ he seems to say, the words tumbling from his lips, _**"I can show you the ways of the force."**_

His offer is so tempting, like a forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden. The promise of strength beckons to her and he is beseeching and insistent all at once.

Does she even have a choice? What would happen if she said no? A plan forms in her mind and she feels the stirrings of an old fire roar to life within her.

 _"I'll agree on one condition. The condition that my friends are left alone and unharmed."_

She feels she is staring down the barrel of a gun, but she is unwavering amongst the tempests. She won't allow herself to be shaken.

 _"That includes the guaranteed safety of Han Solo, Wookiee Chewbacca and FN-2817."_

She hears him snarl at her last request.

He gets out the word _**"Fine"**_ through gritted teeth. He knows the deal is by far in his favor and he savors the victory with a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

She couldn't help but feel then that she'd made a deal with the Devil himself, and her very soul the price she'd paid.

He walks towards her, holding out an outstretched arm as a peace offering. His inky bangs cascade over his face and she is struck again by the severity of passion blazing in his eyes.

He grasps her offered arm, hauling her upward and holds onto her. His eyes lingering on their entwined arms for barely a moment.

She is grateful for the thin sheets of their arm-wrappings that separate his skin from hers...

Before she realises it, he is pulling her out of the room and into blinding white corridors, passed metal curved walls and glossy polyurethane floors.

She protests in indignation, her warrior spirit rising to the surface, but his grip is like iron and her complaints fall on deaf ears.

He leads her through mazes of twists and turns and she catches glimpses of the artificial ice planet's winter wonderland through expansive floor-to-ceiling windows. She sees beautiful snow-capped mountains in the far distance, the floor blanketed by a carpet of unadulterated white. Yet she is wary of its sinister nature: the biting winds and the immoblising, deathly cold. She shudders at the mere thought of it. _Beautiful but deadly..._

He sweeps her further into the jaws of hell, passed hoards of TIE fighters and squadrons of battalion stormtroopers that stretch on forever. An inconceivable military feat.

And finally to large brass double doors steeped in antiquity.

He pushes them aside effortlessly to reveal a room erected nearly entirely from stone with a ceiling that seemed to reach up forever. Held up by spiraling obsidian columns that twisted towards the heavens like snakes. She had never felt anything more numerous in all of her life and was completely in awe of its sheer magnitude and majesty.

It was the embodiment of darkness itself and Rey felt something awaken inside of her because of it...

Kylo's voice cuts through the haze, _**"It's a replica of the Sith Temple back on Coruscant."**_

 _ **"This is where we will train..."**_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has supported this story this far! I'm especially grateful for the beautiful reviews and kind words that have kept me writing. There's nothing sweeter in all the world to a writer than the reviews of their readers, so thank you ^_^**

 **This chapter is especially long because of all the sentiments I wanted to express. The lightsaber battle is also pivotal in Rey's training as her understanding of the living force and seduction to the dark side.**

 **This chapter veers in my style of writing which is unlike the 4 chapters before it, so let me know what you think! Enjoy! ^_^**

* * *

Looking closer the temple was pyramidal in structure, enhanced with durasteel armor at every vertice except for the open roof above. Large scarlet transparisteel windows covered every chamber and hall and a big fighting arena sat in its centre, flagged by four wrought iron braziers caging irate blazing infernos.

It was a vortex of dark energy: sucking all light within it like a black hole.

She felt like she was being smothered by its tenebrosity, could feel something seize her chest—a growing constriction that welled and tightened around her as if an invisible chain.

She keeled over instantly, trying to catch her breath at the pressure that was slowly squeezing it out of her.

She heard Kylo's voice far off in the distance, _**"It's hard to acclimatize to it at first."**_

He helps her stand, with her arm draped around his neck and his encircling her waist.

He muses somewhat distantly, _ **"I was the same..."**_

Rey couldn't shake the feeling that there was something ominous about the whole affair, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. That despite feeling oppressed, something else kindled inside her, something dense yet ecstatically liberating.

She turned to face him. _"What in the_ _ **hell**_ _was that?"_

His tone was anecdotal, textbook and one of reverence, _**"Darth Sidious was the incarnation of the dark side of the force. He built Starkiller base whilst using the Death Star as his operational base. Starkiller was meant to be a sanctuary and training ground for Sith apprentices —hence why this temple was resurrected. He'd been infusing his force signature with this place for decades until his untimely demise."**_

He returns her gaze, locking his eyes to hers, _**"Your force signature is the direct opposite of his own, so it's snuffing yours out because it is more dominant in the force."**_

She feels her force signature begin to adapt and even out, and before long pries herself from Kylo's warmth.

Blushing, she fixes the three buns on the back of her head and brushes a stray strand from her face. _She will_ _ **not**_ _succumb to his charms_

 _"So what now?"_ Her manner slips into one of business— much like when she haggled for portions with Unkar Plutt back on Jakku.

He removes something chrome and cylindrical from his leather sash and throws it to her.

She catches it in mid-air, instinctively.

 _ **"Well done, you're learning."**_

She scowls, _"Don't_ _ **patronize**_ _me."_

He simply waves it off, letting it slide like water off a duck's back.

 _ **"Swordsmanship is basic force-user training and for that we use lightsabers,"**_ he gestured to the hunk of metal in her hand.

 _ **"Lightsabers are used for both combat and defense, although it is a weapon that requires skill and training,"**_ he continued, _**"A lightsaber can cut through virtually anything, from enemies to blast doors. The only way to block an incoming attack of a lightsaber is with another lightsaber."**_

He steps into the arena menacingly and discards his scarf, letting it drop to the floor and then next his gloves, throwing one at her feet.

He doesn't say anything but the message rings loud and clear. _He's serious._

He stares at her with darkened eyes as she steps into the ring of fire with him. Removing her own grey arm wrappings and letting them slide to the ground beneath her.

He ignites his trisaber, flaming a bloody red and poised beside him, seething in luminosity.

She does the same, and feels the cold steel of the hilt against her thumb as she clicks it to life. Surprised when a blue plasma beam stands to greet her.

His eyes do not leave hers as they circle around the arena, mapping each other's movements to a a tee.

He gives his trisaber a practice swing with the roll of his wrist, confident and cool-headed in his aptitude with it. She sees it swipe through the air with a thrum, the blade overzealous and itching to fight.

Both sabers actually _sing_ to one another in unison, screaming with the need for contact and she just can't take the waiting any longer.

She lunges at him with a strength she didn't know she had and he parries in response, sliding his passed hers until they're both vertical and locked in a stalemate of physical power.

Sparks of electricity fly at the contact as they move back and forth from the struggle, the colours fusing to a violet and then deeper into a dark indigo.

A flicker of something she knows all too well flashes in eyes that are darker than anything she's ever seen: _hunger, aching, longing..._

Their proximity was earth-shattering, overwhelmingly so. The iota of space between them so unbearable that she's forgotten how to breathe.

His eyes are _dripping_ with desire and she feels herself getting impossibly sucked in.

It was at that moment that he knocked her to her knees with one swift blow to her leg, sending her crashing to the cold hard ground below.

She let out a strangled cry, feeling the blade rip and burn into her skin, leaving a nasty laceration as its legacy.

 _ **"First lesson — don't get distracted."**_

Words of the past echo back to her then: _beautiful but dangerous..._

She fights the anguish that tears through her nerves and sensory system and wills herself to stand.

He brandishes his saber above him, spinning the hilt between his fingers, his face hidden by shadows as he slowly yet calmly approaches her. His hair whipping around him furiously, like a halo of black fire.

She swallowed a lump she didn't know began to form, steadied herself and grasped the hilt tighter with both hands in front of her. Digging her heels into the floor below and grounding her stance.

He closed the distance between them, twirling around gracefully and striking, the sheer force sending her off-kilter.

She fought back savagely, intrinsically. Running on nothing but pure emotion.

They're leaping, bounding, turning and parrying. Pivoting, striking, clashing and countering. Exchanging blow after blow.

She can feel the heat of both of their lightsabers rolling off in waves, illuminating his face with a carnelian glow.

Yet his movements were rigid, casting her blows aside like flicking off a fly. She realises with a sinking feeling that this is mere child's play for him.

He used the force then to wrench her lightsaber from her grasp, sending it clattering to the ground and skidding out of the arena, away from her.

He tuts, shaking his head at her.

 _ **"I'm so disappointed Rey, so very disappointed."**_

The firelight dances over his milky skin as she holds his gaze.

 _ **"Sadly your saber exhibits only fear. When you counter, it's because you fear being killed. When you attack, you fear killing. And when you protect someone, you fear you could let them die. At this point, the only thing your saber speaks is senseless fright, and that's not good, Rey."**_

She looks at him in shock, the meaning of his words fully sinking in before holding her head low, downcast.

He schooled his tone to didactic, _**"What you don't need in battle is fear. Nothing will come of it. When you counter, you don't let them cut you. When you protect someone, you don't let them die. And when you attack, you**_ _ **kill**_ _ **."**_

Kylo could feel something shift then; something in the air changed.

The force stopped flowing, as if _waiting_ for something. And he was met with nothing but deathly silence as he too waited as though a calm before the storm.

Her lashes slipped to a close and she calmed her breathing, feeling the slight rise and fall of her chest in meditation before reaching for the force around her.

She gave it a light tug, immersing herself within it and felt its golden energy seep into her skin, trickling into every pore, flooding every cell and filling her very essence.

Rey let it flow through her for a while, as though she were one with it — relishing in how _awake_ she felt, as if she'd been asleep the whole time.

When her lashes finally fluttered open, she saw everything with fresh eyes. Things was suddenly clearer, crystal.

Kylo was looking at her expectantly, his trisaber looming in the air like an antichrist.

Before he could blink, she had reclaimed her saber with one deft motion with the force, flashed stepped towards him and was burrowing into his blade with searing blue.

 _She won't let him ignore her..._

His eyes shot up in alarm as he struggled to keep pace, her blade a blue blur as she strook and riposte again and again relentlessly.

She was beautiful in the fray. The way her hair fanned around her in wild hazel waves, the sun casting a golden hue on her features and how she _glowed_ with perspiration. She was positively radiant. Incandescent even. Like some Goddess of war.

He tears his gaze from her visage to focus on the spar at hand.

 _At last. He had an equal..._

Her brows are furrowed in fiery determination as she pushes against him, her lungs burning from exhaustion and her leg throbbing with pain. Yet she soldiers on with the same inextinguishable tenacity she's always had.

She feels free, like a bird released from the confines of its cage. And she flies so very high with the wind whooshing through her undone hair as fluid as the force.

He dances with her across the pit, their duo perfectly synchronized that the beauty of it leaves her breathless. He is so alluring, yet so very dangerous. She feels captivated, spellbound by him and follows him around the arena utterly enchanted.

She feels her awareness wander as if seeking for something, and she slips into his mind, wanting to feel him again.

He stumbles back in surprise, losing his footing and drops his trisaber, overcome by her presence in his psyche.

Rey uses this temporary distraction to her advantage and points her blade to his chest, hovering it over his heart.

 _ **"Touche."**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: OMG You guys are amazing! Thank you SO MUCH for the amazing reviews and continued support! Sorry this is late, VERY late. I'll try and be on deadline next time. Please forgive me :'(**_

 _ **Anyways, there is a lot of symbolism in this chapter, which is a subconscious manifestation of feelings/emotions, etc. This soul bond they both have is VERY serious. It far surpasses the physical plane of lust/want/need and even love in respects. They're both desperately fighting themselves for their allegiance to each side, and it's agonisingly unbearable to tear yourself away from your other half.**_

 _ **Without further ado, enjoy!**_

* * *

 _ **"Touche,"**_ he says, with a smirk gracing his lips.

 _Clever, very clever. Manipulating their soul bond —albeit subconsciously—to give her the upper hand in the battle. Well she might have won the battle, but she hasn't won the war._

He trips her up then, undercutting her stance and sending her tumbling to the floor.

She lands ungracefully, the wind knocking out of her sails as he switches their positions and rolls her under him, effectively pinning her to the floor.

He hovers above her, his hands locked around her wrists with his raven locks dangling over her face. A stray one finds its way to her, tickling her cheek.

Her breath hitches as she laps up his stare, a swirling mass of entropy that sets her insides on fire.

They stay like that for a long flow of time, him sucking her in like a bottomless, pitless abyss; a hungry black hole that is never sated.

She sees a struggle wage behind closed doors that are only perceptible to those who have seen them open. A tug of war rages in his eyes, their shade rapidly swaying from soot to midnight and his pupils oscillating uncontrollably.

He was teetering on the edge of a precipice, swaying on a tightrope with no chance of return. Yet he reeled himself back, sighing as he tore himself from her, his pained expression breaking the spell of her enrapture.

She felt as if her heart had been ripped from her chest at the way he had looked at her. So much anguish had burdened his eyes before they had swiftly come to a close.

 _As if he couldn't bear to look at her..._

A small part of her frosted as he pulled away, dragging the warmth with him. And she was once again thrust into the cold depths of incompleteness: like a naked child huddled in icy wilderness.

She hated this. Hated how vulnerable, how _exposed_ he made her feel. If there was one good thing she could say about Jakku, it would be how it had changed her. How it had molded her into a pillar of strength and fierce independence. It was a planet that screamed 'survival of the fittest'—and she had been just that: the fittest, the strongest, emotionally, mentally and physically. There was no room for weakness— the climate and its inhabitants had beat that out of her in her childhood. But now...now he had come into her life and changed everything. Changed what she had spent her whole life perfecting...

 _Kylo Ren_

Who exactly was he? Sith and dark force practitioner. The _wrong_ side she forcefully reminded herself. He went against everything she stood for and yet... he had knocked down the walls of her defenses, crumbling them like mere pastry at her feet. He undid her at a stare, made her tremble at a touch and completely _consumed_ _her_ at a kiss.

 _That kiss..._

She still couldn't believe it had happened. Had thought it all a dream until she woke up with her lips still tingling with euphoria. She remembered floating and time and space fading away, losing herself in him and her grip on reality. And then sinking into the oblivion and transcendence itself— fallen to pieces that she was still trying to recover. That was not simply a kiss. She knew that with absolute conviction. There was something other-worldly about it, ethereal even that shook her profoundly, right to her very core. She would get to the bottom of it— even if it was the last thing she did.

When she next looked, he was a good distance from her with his back turned and arms held behind him. His robes blew subtly from the draft, sashaying slightly at his feet. He seemed to be in deep contemplation of some sort as silence hugged his still form.

Any semblance of emotion was dashed from his voice when he next spoke. _**"Second lesson — never let your guard down."**_

Fisting the material of her slacks she huffed in frustration, knowing full well she had let her guard down _twice_ during the duel. She'd make sure it _ **wouldn't**_ happen again.

She was still sat with her legs bent beneath her when he motioned for her to sit beside him on a set of curved stone steps set between two pillars. They were massive structures, reaching up to the floor above like a black Tower of Hanoi. He was crouched on one of the steps close to the base, leant over with his arms resting on his legs and hands folded together.

He took a swig from a leather flask and passed it to her.

She eyed it suspiciously, hesitant as to its contents.

 _ **"It's water,"**_ she heard, with a faint hint of mirth creeping into his voice.

She gulped it down greedily, letting the elixir of life quench her burning thirst. Not remembering the last time she'd done so.

He watched her in fascination, following the trail of water run down the side of her lips and her hastily wiping it away with the back of her hand.

Should he tell her? She had a right to know, but how could he? How could he tell her they were the equivalent as _**married**_ in soul terms. Especially when they had just met? He couldn't do that to her.

He sighed, recounting what little he had recalled from the archives about 'Soul Bonds'. He didn't understand it himself. It wasn't a prerequisite for Sith training nor Jedi training. Snoke would undoubtedly _**kill**_ her if he ever found out. He shuddered at the thought of it—the concept too inconceivable to wrap his head around. A life without her...

He was a Sith. There was no room for attachments like the New Jedi Order allowed. Even worse for a Sith was that it went against their very nature, distracted them from their purpose. Jedi believed that attachments built their relationship with the living force, enlarging their capacity of unconditional love and thus expanding the channel from which the force could flow. He scoffed at that.

Luke's words came unbidden to his mind, _**"A Jedi's greatest power comes not from size or physical strength. It comes from understanding the force."**_ He sighed again — realised he was doing that a lot these days. Master Luke— _former_ _master_ he reprimanded— would've have known what to do.

There was that matter of disturbing information he had gleaned from a book a good 8 inches thick and had stumbled from the sheer weight of it when he'd pulled it from its shelf, back on Coruscant as a boy. Its spine had groaned in protest when he had tried to behold its contents, nearly choking him from the amount of dust he'd disturbed. He'd been in the restricted section when he found it, beckoning to him to be what seemed like fate now. Had poured over its pages stained with time for hours before coming to rest on a section about telepathy. Luke had praised him as a 'natural' at it, daresayed a prodigy, and he'd wanted to know as much about it as he could. That's where he stumbled on a passage that struck a chord:

 _"Force-sensitives that have formed a soul bond have reached the highest level of telepathy conceived. Yet rarely has this been reached in this galaxy. Medi-chlorian count is indeed a hindrance in forming a viable connection as well as compatibility with force signatures. Not to mention the strain of the connection when it is formed. [Notable accounts of this include Stass Allie and Eeth Koth, both Jedi Knights who neglected the intimacy that such a bond requires] The connection is an empathic link that causes intense emotions. Their need for each other is what sustains them. An attempt to revoke and ignore the bond has been known to cause immeasurable pain to both force-wielders."_

Little did he know that he'd be privy to such a gift and curse later on in his life. The amount of willpower he had to exert to resist her was phenomenal. Losing control over her was like a ticking time bomb just _waiting_ to happen.

He was suddenly snapped out of his reverie by Rey's voice penetrating his psyche.

 _"Kylo,"_ she tests, treading lightly on eggshells. She struggles for the right words, the right way to say them and decides to ask bluntly what was weighing on her mind. _"Why did you choose this path, the path to so much darkness?"_

She couldn't help it: wanting to understand the man who came from such a different world. She was inexplicably drawn to him.

The silence stretched on forever, and for a moment she thought he wouldn't answer her.

He looked up toward the heavens, casting his gaze to the open roof above and the lone column of light streaming down below.

He ran a hand through his unruly hair, _ **"There is no such thing as light or dark. Duality is simply an illusion used for judgment and justification."**_ His features were impassive, unemotive and so very controlled.

She wanted to shout at him, scream at his hypocrisy. But instead settled on a retort. _"That's rich coming from someone who chose sides."_

He shot back, _**"I see you have too."**_

She cringed at her own self-righteousness, but she wouldn't back down.

He caved in, _**"Because some of us have to. If it's not you, then it's someone else. Life is an open vortex dragging in situation after situation, demanding to be filled."**_

He brought a hand to his face. _**"Balance isn't restored to the force by one side overpowering the other. Balance is when both sides co-exist with each other in equilibrium, harmony; Yin and Yang."**_

 _ **"But to answer your question, Rey,"**_ something stirred within her at the mention of her name.

He turned towards her to face her, their eyes finding each other again. _**"I don't really know..."**_

She wants to bring her head to his and press against him. Shut her eyes in bliss and feel their minds entangle. His admission was so authentic, so pure and _real_. He had laid himself out openly for her to see, and it was beautiful...

He rises, his façade plastering his face and walks away from her to the door.

 _ **"Forgive me..."**_


	7. Chapter 7

**HALLO! AS GERMANS WOULD SAY! I need to bring your attention to a lovely fanfic (the best Reylo one I have seen no jk!) which I feel is part of my fellow Reylo shipping duty to inform you of! It's called 'Your Reclamation, Then' and is 90k words long!**

 **Again, you know you guys are awesome, but I'll say it again! Thank you so much for your reviews! They're like ecstasy :D**

* * *

Rey walked down endless corridors and staircases, getting lost in the maze of passages and rooms that the temple held. She had first set out with the intention of mapping its parameters to gain her bearings, but had soon resigned to its infinite nature. She had surmised that the ground floor was clearly meant for training. Each room gave way to different aspects of the latter. She had pushed passed one heavy brass door to reveal an extensive gymnasium that spanned the length of two football pitches, equipped for every type of fitness enhancement. Including a 50 metre long pool, an assortment of metal contraptions, mats, spring boards, vaulting blocks, asymmetric bars, rebounders, aerial silks, aviation devices, ropes, frames, ladders, towering rock walls with barely perceptible indents— the list went on. She felt like she was having an information overload, registering how everything conformed to the entirety of the physical spectrum: agility, power, flexibility, speed, balance, reflex reaction, stamina and endurance, capacity, strength and even anthropometrics.

She noted how the temple's design had a touch of the medieval, with wrought iron wall torches illuminating her passage down stony hallways — Its blazes roaring at her in warning. One leapt perilously close and out of its confinement, sensing the threat that she posed to its dwelling. She was unfazed — she was used to snapping dogs.

One room however, was very unlike the others. Its entrance hadn't been bothered to disguise itself amongst the gothic architecture. It stood proud of its modernism; anachronism to its surroundings. Durasteel barring her curiosity, and a retina scan the key to its admission. She knew very little about biometrics. Coming from a backwater planet as she did, access control was the last thing on people's minds — on Jakku, you took what you could get. What she did know was that such systems recorded your genetic blueprint in a database and needed an external match from the scanner to allow access. Obviously a retina scan was out of the question. But there was always a failsafe; a back-up; a precautionary measure...

She looked to the right of the door where a cup of swab sticks lay above a silicone hole — another scanner reminiscent of a DNA sample biometric. The Temple had to have DNA records of each Sith... which would mean Kylo's DNA too. If she could somehow collect a sample with the swab then she'd be able to breach it... It could contain a secondary control deck or hopefully the systems operator. There was a small problem though: the matter of actually getting Kylo Ren's DNA.

She paced back and forth, pondering on how she'd contrive such a plan. A fallen strand of hair? A stray fingerprint? A blood sample from the nip of a lightsaber? Then it hit her like a ton of bricks. He'd _kissed_ her. Reaching out she touched her lips gingerly, remembering how soft his lips had been, how sweet he'd tasted... She promptly stopped that line of thought in its tracks. _Focus._

She took a swab and brushed it over her lips, then inserted it into the scanner. It gave a sharp beep and whirred in processing, before spitting the swab out and peeling away the durasteel. She took the ejected swab and hid it in her leather belt bag. _For safe keeping._

When she walked into the chambre she was alarmed at finding it completely and utterly empty, Frowning, she walked further into the room to hear the door slide shut behind her with a soft click. This activated the automatic lighting system and she was assaulted by all-encompassing, bright white light from every available surface. Shielding her vision, she spotted what appeared to be an overhanging control booth and realisation came flooding back to her. This was a Holographic Simulator. She'd heard stories about such technology, but never thought it actually existed.

A Holographic Simulator was a virtual fictional reality facility mainly used for training and gaining experience and competence in battle. It could materialise and recreate places, objects and people, mapping the 5 sense reality down to a tee. Even recording the thoughts, feelings, beliefs and experiences of its user. It was the ultimate learning and training tool. She fretted to think what chance the resistance had against such a technology in the hands of the Sith. It was a miracle the republic had survived this far, let alone the rebels.

She wrestled with herself on how to proceed. Kylo had been gone a full hour now. Had left her in this pit of darkness alone without so much as a word as to his leaving. Then, to make matters worse had force-locked her in the temple. She'd tried to still her mind, connect herself with the force that had come so innate and natural to her in their fight. But to no avail it had eluded her, bounced off of her like a deflector shield. She'd tried to coax it into submission — even bargain with it, only to have it slide passed her again, slipping through her fingers like fine sand. She'd finally given up then. Slid down the towering brass barrier in resignation and plopped to the ground in defeat. If he could go off gallivanting to wherever he liked, then so could she. And her escapade had commenced.

Standing in the middle of a room that knew no bounds, she began to feel like she'd overstepped the mark in said ambition. Yet the more she knew about the place, the more it increased her chances of taking down the First Order and even the dark side of the force itself. Her hands were bound in terms of escape. That option was exhausted. There was no way she'd risk the lives of her friends for her own freedom. She'd made a deal with him now and if she broke it, he would hunt them down himself and slaughter every last one of them. No, she had to stay.

The control booth was too far for her to reach not to mention compatamentalised from the HS. She wondered if it had a speech recognition system instead.

 _"Show me all files on the Sith Order."_

The room's light suddenly dimmed, changing to that of a reddy hue before mechanically responding.

 _ **"ACCESS DENIED."**_

Rey cursed under her breath. She should have known they'd have other biometrics in place. How many firewalls did this room have?

Before she even had a chance to react, seven black wires shot towards her like snakes, piercing through the fabric of her clothes and latching onto her skin like leeches. She gave out a strangled cry of pain, unushered tears streaming down her face from the impact. She felt her body go limp as she was hoisted in the air, immbolised and floating on her back.

 _ **"PROCESSING INITIATE'S GENETIC BLUEPRINT..."**_

She tried to fight it off, willing herself to summon what little ounce of strength she had. But it was no use. It must have injected her with a tranquilizer — Xylazine from its potency.

 _ **"STORING DATA...**_

 _ **MEDI-CHLORIAN COUNT COMPLETE**_

 _ **FORCE POTENTIAL COMPLETE**_

 _ **ASPECT FORCE RATIO COMPLETE**_

 _ **MEMORY TRANSMISSION COMPLETE**_

The system downloads dragged on forever. All the while she felt it was invading every cell in her body, breaking open her most private thoughts and digging into the furthest recesses of her mind. Violated was the word, and she was begging for it to end.

Eventually the sound of the dead, stoic AI simulation ceased. The wires pumped a saline flush through her veins before retracting back to where they came, causing Rey to slump to the floor like a rag doll...

* * *

Kylo marched towards the command deck of Starkiller base with one objective: to get _her_ off his mind. There was something cathartic about his station. An overseer of the organisations operations made him feel _in control_. And that was what she had taken away from him. A scavenger on a watershed, outer rim planet had been his undoing. _Pathetic._ Whoever had said that with distance comes clarity, certainly wasn't wrong.

He let the gentle swishing of his robes soothe his frustrations. He needed to be civil when he spoke to Hux. He'd never been good at emotional suppression — didn't have the patience nor desire to master it. Taking a right he spotted a flash of orange in the distance: the Generals trademark.

 _"Ah, Kylo Ren. Just the person I needed_ _to see."_

 _ **"What is it General?"**_ A touch of annoyance grazed his words. Although his use of his full name indicated the proper respect, he couldn't help but want to distance himself from this non-force-sensitive. An honorific would have satisfied such an issue. If their organisation wasn't so thinly spread, then they wouldn't have had this plight.

 _"I've spoken to the Supreme Leader. Must say I'm glad that Skywalker nuisance was resolved. It would have caused_ _quite a few inconveniences_ _to our plan."_

Kylo was pleased about that at least. The force was on their side and their _plan_ was being put into motion at last. Darth Sidious had been slowly laying its foundations before he had passed and It was finally coming into fruition.

 _"_ _ **It**_ _is ready. What orders should I give?"_

A smirk graced the corners of his lips _ **."Tell them there is no need. We have what we want. The New Republic**_ _**will crumble on its own accord and the resistance along with it."**_

Hux could've sworn he looked positively evil at that moment. The force had always been an enigma to him, but in that moment he felt like he finally understood. Kylo Ren's presence felt suffocating, dark and oppressive. Like a crushing weight.

 _ **"Set course for Korriban. We have work to do."**_

 _"Starkiller needs to consume the entirety_ _of a star before moving. There is still much quintessence we can gain from it. Are you saying that we should forgo out superweapon?"_ He could not disguise his incredulity of such a matter. He had been at the forefront of the superweapon's development for years now. A weapon which could destroy entire star systems halfway across the galaxy. What was the Supreme Leader and Kylo Ren not telling him?

 _ **"Korriban has plenty of stars and twice as much quintessence believe me. The weapon is not needed at present. Channel the reserves from the core into the Hyperdrive generator and jet propellers. We're**_ _**returning home."**_

 _"And what about FN-2187? He will divulge our secrets to the resistance. Surely it is wiser to strike them now and scourge the pestilence once and for all?"_

Kylo visibly stiffened at the mention of the stormtrooper. _**"He is not to be harmed. What harm can a sanitation worker do? I suggest installing another thermal oscillator**_ _**as a precaution. They will not dare to engage us in any other way than aerial warfare — they do not have the manpower. As for D'Qar...**_ _**you won't have to worry about that for much longer..."**_

Hux was frustrated by his obscurity. If the Supreme Leader commanded it, then he would set coordinates for the Horuset system and Korriban. Yet FN-2817's display of defiance was a concern that he wouldn't ignore.

 _"What message will this send to my subordinates? Treachery_ _is punishable by death. I will send Riot Control troopers to put the traitor_ _down like the dog he is."_

Kylo's anger bristled slightly. _**"You will do no such thing. If I am not mistaken, it was**_ _ **your**_ _**methods that caused this mess. We will increase the numbers of Riot Control troops and implement heavy subliminal programming**_ _**for conformity — 6G Ultrasonic should thwart any prospective rebels."**_

He turned away, deciding that this conversation with Hux was over before adding, _**"You'd do well to watch where you tread...General."**_ His tone dropping dangerously low.

Kylo had felt the constant pulse in his mind grow progressively cold and sickly, and it had taken every iota of self-control he had not to go to her. He could feel her anguish bleed through the bond as though it were his own. He felt like he was falling apart, and if this conversation continued any longer then he feared for the lives in this room.

Hux was sweating profusely the next time he spoke. _"There is something else..."_

Kylo was about to draw his trisaber in madness before he was stopped dead in his tracks.

 _"It's the Knights of Ren..._

 _...They have returned..."_


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hey! Okay, so this chapter is going to be VERY confusing. I can't divulge exactly what's going on (that would spoil the mystery!) and I'm sure a few of you have cottoned on (especially those who are intimate with the Star Wars Universe). All I can say is that Rey's visions are a mixture of repressed memories and something else — which you'll have to figure out. And to answer your question, yes: Revan and Bastila are canon as is their relationship. This fanfic is loosely based off them and a Fanfic called Dark Destiny: s/7816211/1/Dark-Destiny which I recommend checking out. I mean common', who wouldn't want to read a romance about two force-sensitives? I describe Revan a lot here, but I hate it when I don't have a set 'image' of what the character looks like. As I'm sure a few of you are like too. So if you were curious, he is the spit image of Garrett from Twilight (in my Fanfic at least). Revan doesn't really have a 'set image' in the SW Universe (unmasked anyway). I did photoshop an image on how I wanted him to look like, which you can see here:  art/Dark-Lord-of-the-Sith-Darth-Revan-584739743?ga_submit_new=10%253A1452956315 **

**Okay, I'll shut up in sec. I just wanted to say that I'll only be updating weekly. But I will increase the chapter length as compensation :) Thank you and enjoy! x**

* * *

She had to stop doing this. Had to stop waking up in unfamiliar places. It was that common that it was becoming a habit.

When she roused from her sleep, her back ached and her eyes stung. A cold hard surface greeted her — white and blinding. And she had registered the unnatural angle at which she lay — something almost fetal in her position.

The chambre was humming. A low resounding noise that was consecutive and somehow reassuring. When she stood, she noted not to breach the systems archive without caution. _This time she was ready_. She couldn't really tell where the holographic simulator begun or ended. It was infinite in its size. The walls, floor and ceiling blending endlessly into the other to a void of white.

She whipped her head around, searching for an exit. Yet none could be found. She was left drifting inside a limbo; a purgatory or sorts. Like a wanderer — lost and aimless.

When she called out her voice echoed back to her, bouncing off indiscernible surfaces. Cracked and dry from hunger and thirst. She wasn't sure of which sort.

The HS responded with a sharp, mechanical bleep and she was submerged in a sea of images — so real that she could touch them. They went flying passed her like a fast-forwarded movie reel. Streaming and jumping to different times and places, situations and people. It was then that she realised the flit of images were her own memories: a reverse chronological montage of her life.

She could see, smell, hear, touch and taste her surroundings, shifting like rapid fire around her. Thoroughly immersed in the sensations of the simulator. Reliving each moment again in first person: the scorching dry swelter of Jakku, air rife with heat and of course the wasteland of sand. Heaps and mounds of coarse and rough beige particles. Lifeless grains that spilled into makeshift mountains and barren waves. Any moisture devoured by an insatiable sun — blazing and searing in its dictatorship. The only government Jakku had known.

Then there was the old AT-AT. Lying in Starship Graveyard forgotten and rotting like a picked-over carcass. And her, the vulture, that sought its sanctuary: a shelter from vicious sandstorms and the calloused climate.

She hadn't missed this place. Not in the slightest.

She felt the crunch of the desert below her feet. Sinking into its burnt grit depths as she trudged towards the walker — abandoned as much as herself. Perhaps why she had gravitated towards it in the first place: an instantaneous affinity founded on the kinship of loneliness. Yet unlike it she had retained a naïve, youthful hope that one day someone would come back for her. She had spent her days surviving and her nights longing. Imploring the sky for answers and the stars for wishes. Munching on the same monotonous, tasteless polystarch. The remains of a resistance pilot helmet her childlike roleplay of escapism.

She is suddenly screaming at said sky, begging for what looks like a freighter to come back. The vice grip of Unkar Plut yanking her away as she yells with every last breath in her body. Her lungs burning of exhaustion from wails that fall on deaf ears.

Her first memory.

The simulation suddenly dies and she is thrust into blackness. A whole lifetime whisked away in barely a moment.

A sigh of resignation escapes her lips. Her shoulders slumping in defeat as she mourns the closing chapter of her life; welcoming the opening of another.

The chambre is still pitch black when she tears herself away from her grief. There's a distinct static noise in the background — like an old record. Sputtering as if stuck; looping on a fixed point again and again. With each cycle it gets louder and louder — obsessed on a precipice. Until it perforates her eardrums and sends her mind reeling with the same insanity.

Just when the sound reaches to that of deafening, the room erupts into a a burst of white so bright that she shields her eyes with a raised arm — bracing herself for its worst. The explosion is momentous, dissolving her completely in its light. Fingers begin to disintegrate before her, engulfing her hand and then her arm and eventually swallowing her entirely...

When she next opened her eyes, she was amongst a starship vessel waiting for something or someone. Three Jedi Masters stood beside her on one end of a command bridge, their sabers ignited and readied for the inevitable confrontation. She repeated a code in her head — calming her nerves and quieting her mind.

 _"Padwan are you ready?"_ A man with a long brown cloak asked.

She spoke back, obediently. _"Yes Master."_

A single man stood on the doorway twenty feet ahead of her. Cloaked from head to foot in black with a mask barring his face. Black armor encased a powerful build and the force clung to him like a second skin. _Darth Revan_ — her mind supplied. Dark Lord of the Sith and ruler of two thirds of the galaxy.

 _"You cannot win Revan!"_ she shouted confidently.

 _"Are you so sure, Padwan Shan?"_ His smooth voice taunted. _"Yes I know who you are, Bastila Shan. I know you have saved the Republic from defeat with your Battle Meditation. And I've known you were coming for weeks. The Jedi Order's last gamble."_

 _"Surrender Revan, it is four against one. You cannot defeat us!"_ Master Alari ordered

She was certain Revan was smiling under his mask when the bodies of the three Masters were sent catapulting through the air, riding a current of white lightning and slamming against the wall behind her. She looked on, terrified as they slumped to the ground, unmoving.

She was in awe of his power.

There was no movement or gesture on his part and he had just killed three Masters; three Council members of the Jedi without even lifting a finger.

Despair racked her heart as she was frozen to the spot she stood — fear swept in molten currents through her veins as she realised with a sinking feeling: today was the day she would die.

Suddenly through the ship's windows, she saw the command bridge of the Leviathan suddenly explode. The ship, which had been destroying the last remaining Republic vessels, now drifted helplessly in space.

 _"Malak,"_ Revan explained. _"He's been planning on betraying me for a long time now. I caught wind of his plan, of course, and had one of my most trusted agents rig his ship to explode. If a command was entered to fire on my ship, the weapon system would self-destruct. So it seems I will need a new apprentice. And that is where you come in, Bastila. Together, we would be unstoppable"_

A flash of anger surged through her. _"I will never turn to the dark side!"_ She shouted.

She raised her yellow saberstaff, ready for a last stand. She knew she could not defeat the Dark Lord of the Sith alone, especially as he was even more powerful than they expected. But she was determined to die fighting and she would not give him the chance to turn her, as he wanted to.

 _"Sorry not going to happen Bastila,"_ Revan told her. Bastila's anger flared. Losing control, she charged at him.

Revan extended his hand, and Bastila's saberstaff flew out of her grip. It flew through the air into Revan's waiting grasp. Bastila stopped charging, shocked that he could defeat her so easily.

He studied the weapon. _"An excellent blade. When you begin your apprenticeship, it shall be returned to you. For now, it shall remain in my possession."_

He turned to face her directly. _"Your mission has failed. Surrender, you are my prisoner now,"_ he said.

Bastila remained defiant. _"I will never give up Revan!"_ She yelled

 _"Very well."_ Revan extended a hand and all of Bastila's energy drained away. She felt herself falling and Revan catching her, effortlessly. Scooping her up and carrying her in his arms. With that, she lost consciousness.

Rey had no idea what she was seeing, feeling or sensing. Something about the vision seemed so familiar to her. As though she'd seen it somewhere before. Yet before she had a chance to contemplate the thought, she was transported away...

This time, she was in someone's personal quarters.

Lavish and opulent furnishings covered the room's interior, with a large 4 poster bed situated in the middle. Its colour a glossy light mahogany.

She was resting her head against the crook of a man's neck. Black satin covering their modesty as they embraced one another.

She turned to her side to look at him: long tousled dark brown hair fell lazily over his face. Its colour verging on auburn as red streaks illuminated it like fire. His eyes were a similar crimson. Deep and bottomless and unfathomably beautiful — otherworldly was the word. With a darker stubble grazing a strong and angular jawline. Not to mention flawless fair skin.

She was taken aback by his beauty, her breath hitching as she took him in. It was almost painful to look at him, so she focused her attention on his muscled chest instead. Caressing it and drawing small circles on his skin.

He grabbed her hand mid-circle, lacing it with his own, before tenderly tilting her chin to meet his gaze. She looked at him through thick black lashes, suddenly trembling as he swept a stray lock from her face, brushing her cheek with the lightest of touches.

She realised she was shivering — and not from the cold.

Their eyes were locked to the other, exposing their very souls — naked for each to see.

His eyes conveyed to her something too ineffable to be put into words. She could see it burning there with such an intensity that she felt she was melting under it.

He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer until their lips were a hairsbreadth away.

He was breathing hard; his whole body shaking visibly. But it was not the trembling of youthful timidity or the sweet fretting over a first declaration of passion that overcame him: it was love struggling within him — powerful and painful.

 _"I love you,"_ he whispered.

She was overwhelmed with the euphoria of his statement. Earth shattering pleasure crashing down her spine as she felt his emotion through the bond.

 _"I love you too, Revan."_

Their lips locked in a soul-searing kiss, pouring all of their feelings and their very essences into the other. With time and space, and the very fabric of existence, falling away...

Rey came out of the vision breathless. Struck profoundly by what she'd just witnessed. Who was this Bastila and Revan? And why was the simulator showing it to her?

She had to seriously find a way of breaking the visions. But the simulator wasn't finished with her yet...

She was in some sort of building or institute. She was sat on one of many chairs lined along a plain wall, her legs hovering above the floor as she swung them back and forth in boredom. The wall opposite sported a huge poster with the Jedi Mantra and an peculiar looking symbol with wings and a tall star in the middle. One of the grown-ups had told her to remember it by heart by the time he finished in the room behind her. She scrunched up her face in annoyance. She didn't even know what half of the words meant.

 **'There is no emotion, there is peace**

 **There is no ignorance, there is knowledge**

 **There is no passion, there is serenity**

 **There is no chaos, there is harmony**

 **There is no death, there is the force.'**

What even was this 'force'. A man had told her that is was very strong with her and that she would one day surpass him — whatever that meant. He had a funny name — something to do with the sky. And he was dressed weirdly, in white and cream robes and a grey cloak.

If she strained her hearing enough, she could hear what they were saying through the transparisteel.

 _"Are you sure it's her? But that can't be...that's impossible!"_

 _"I wouldn't be telling you if I were lying. Her blueprint matches hers completely. There's only one explanation..."_

 _"What about her mother, her father? Where are they?"_

Rey could hear the other man becoming more hysterical as the conversation progressed. She would have to make a deliberate effort of not hearing if she didn't want to listen.

 _"As far as I know, Magnus, she has no father. As for her mother, she was killed protecting her from Snoke."_

 _"So you're saying..."_

 _"Yes. Medi-chlorian conception."_

A silence passed between them for a while and Rey tried to understand what their sudden hush meant.

 _"Her mother — was she force-sensitive?"_

 _"I strongly suspect so. Untrained, but strong enough to feel the force and feel Snoke's intentions. Snoke has been hunting her down since the second disturbance — 5 years ago."_

 _"And if what you're saying is true about her... than what about him?"_

 _"What about **him**?"_

She could hear the edge to Luke's tone — defensive and dismissive.

" _Don't play dumb with me — I can see right through it. If she is here than so is he. And something tells me you know **exactly** who it is. Am I wrong?"_

 _"Damn you, Magnus. That's not the point. If Snoke was to get his hands on both of them, then you very well know what would happen. We wouldn't even be able to put up a fight. You **have heard** the stories?"_

Rey was confused, very confused. Their cryptic speak was completely lost on her.

When she next listened in, they were arguing.

 _"They are **Gray** , Luke. You cannot stop the inevitable happening. It is their nature to—"_

He stopped mid-sentence, suddenly aware of something. Rey felt the air shift around her as though disturbed.

 _"You brought her here?"_ The incredulity of his voice was not lost to Rey.

 _"I will **not** risk her safety. By my side is the safest she could be."_

 _"Your anxieties are over exalted. Yavin 4 is force cloaked. They will never find us here."_

 _"I will not take that chance."_

The other man made a very conspicuous cough, as if signaling something to Luke through code.

She found she could no longer hear them, and realised they must have caught on to her eavesdropping and used 'the force' or whatever it was to soundproof the room.

Another vision died — she sighed — another thing to think about. She was certain this time that this was her memory. Although the more pressing question was: why had she forgotten it? And if the HS had recovered one repressed memory, then she was certain it could recover more.

She had only dreamed of finding out who her parents were, and now that she knew they were dead or worse — never existed, there was a gnawing emptiness in place of what used to be longing. Her fears had been confirmed: she really was alone...

Strangely, she could hear voices whispering to her. The chambre was lifeless — for now at least. But it wasn't like any whispering she'd ever experienced. For one, there were several of them, each calling out to her in different intensities: some louder than others. One voice was so loud that Rey could've sworn that a person was right behind her. Only to snap her head around and find an empty space in its stead.

Was she going insane?

 _"Wake up, Rey..."_

She jumped, startled by its proximity.

Its tone had been soft, gentle even. Serene as a monk gone to god.

Yet there were others, coming in thick and fast. The flurry of which she could only catch a snippet or two.

 _"These are your first steps..."_

 _"Let go, Rey..."_

 _"Remember who you are..."_

 _"Use the force, Rey..."_

 _"Remember... Remember ...REMEMBER"_

She screamed. It was all too much for her. She couldn't take it anymore. Her head pounded furiously like a battle drum, beating faster and faster and faster. She clutched at it in agony, crashing to her knees with pain. She felt her head was splitting in two.

And then it all came flooding back to her

 _She remembered..._


	9. Chapter 9

Where the doors to the deepest recesses of her mind had remained unbreachable, standing like stony sentries to her conscious mind, locked and barred. They now gaped open around her. Circling her like mental portals — the space between them a junctional access point. The latter of which she stood, like the hub of an orb web.

The epicentre of ground below her was concentric stone, tiled like a whirlpool at her feet. But none of that mattered. She wasn't in the simulator anymore; wasn't blinded by abstract images and projections; wasn't at the mercy of such a pandemonium of perplexity. No. This was her mind, and she was inside it.

She'd hoped it had come with some sort of signpost; a navigational tool of sorts. How was she to know what lurked behind its darkened depths? She paced several steps before coming to stop at the entrance to the one directly in front of her. There were 8 in total, precisely spaced at 45 degree sectors and converging at equal distance amongst the focus. She stroked the door to the one she chose, the slab of stone cast pliably away from its arched frame, outstretched invitingly. The doorway beckoned to her and she was only to happy to oblige. She let her hand graze down the doors length, the fingers trailing across its spine. She noted the cracks intersped on its surface, as though it had endured numerous sieges and attempts to reach the contents it was guarding. She let her hand fall to her side and took a resolute step into it, immersing herself in the smother of its blackness.

It was like sinking your head under cold water. The impact of it temporarily paralyzing you before the clogs of your rationale had time to thaw. She gathered what wits she had and pushed on, her senses sluggishly seeping in. She could register the feel of the squishy ground underneath, its waterlogged consistency and how it squelched underfoot as she moved. _Mud_ she surmised. She could hear the sound of something pounding to the ground, heavy and powerful. A torrential torrent of wetness pelting down on her rapid-fire, soaking her to the bone. And felt the way her wrappings clung to her skin, now reduced to soggy, sopping scraps. She was drenched. Utterly and thoroughly. But the wetness she could deal with. No, it was the cold she couldn't bear. The faithful accomplice of the wet that infected you like a virus. The way it made you skin shiver, your teeth chatter and your limbs tremble. How you were defenseless to fight it, and the numbing legacy it left you with. It was at these times that she dreamt of Jakku and its blistering heat. Nothing warmed the cockles of her heart more.

It was that singular line of thought that kept her blood fluid in her veins, her lungs heaving along with it to the false promise of warmth. She could smell something now, coming in thick and fast and rolling to her senses. _Something was burning_. The acrid smell of smoke wafting toward her at an alarming rate and she spluttered slightly, trying to keep breath. Something unpleasant accompanied the which, something so revolting that she had to pinch her nose to refute. It hung in the air like death itself, a harbinger of things to come and she backed away fearfully, dreading its implications before hitting something solid with the back of her heel. It felt soft...and warm... like...like a...

Her eyes flung open. No. _Oh God no_. A dead body lay at her feet. Its face planted in the marsh below. Unresponsive and lifeless. _This can't be happening_. She wrenched her gaze away from it to dart to her surroundings. The sight that met her made her want to be violently sick. **_Hundreds_** of dead bodies littered the floor, strewn across it like ragdolls, butchered and slaughtered —like lifeless slabs of meat. She wanted to sink to her knees in grief and mourn with the sky, but the prickle of imminent danger bled through the force like a deafening siren.

Searching for its location, she realised with sinking revelation that the danger was but a few metres away: right in front of her. A familiar thrumming sound its source...

Her head snapped up like the lash of a whip. 8 figures loomed over her, standing before her as death itself; black silent reapers to claim her soul. They were a faceless congregation; masked incarnations of darkness clad in long, pitch black hooded robes that rippled soundlessly in the howling wind. Unwavering shadows that stood ominously steadfast amongst the pelting rain. Black assassins poised for the kill, stalking her like prey. They were gathered around something or _someone_ , a singular figure — which she surmised was their leader. A bloody lightsaber seething furiously by his side like an antichrist. A burning neon — the luminosity rivalling the fires of hell itself. The force emanated off them in shrouded tidal waves, nearly knocking her backwards. She had never felt it this strong with anyone. It was suffocating. Crushing her attempts to stand. She slowly, shakily sunk to her knees from the pressure— practically kneeling in front of them.

She was wide-eyed and desperate when she heard one of them speak.

 ** _"Pathetic! This is the girl Snoke has been searching for?"_ ** She could hear the venom in his tone as he spat the words. **_"She doesn't deserve such attention."_**

Another spoke from the shadows, this time a woman's voice.

 _ **"Let us be done with her. I have dwelled in this carnage long enough for my liking. Let me, Master, take out the garbage before the brat has the chance to become a threat to us."**_

She could feel the leader studying her even behind his mask. His gaze was heavy on her, deep in contemplation.

There was something eerily reminiscent about his presence. She couldn't put her finger on it. It was like she had been hit with an overwhelming sense of déjà vu.

 _ **"You will do no such thing."**_ His voice was cold as ice as it crackled through the mask.

The man from before grunted his disapproval. _**"If you will not let Reda dispose of her, then I will!"** _ He inched menacingly closer to her but she was frozen to the ground.

He cooed mockingly as he approached her. _**"What? Can't move?"**_ A diabolical grin grazed his features, spreading wider with each predatory step he took toward her.

Fear flowed through her veins in molten currents, paralyzing every limb. She wanted to scream, but it had turned frozen in her throat. _Get up, Get up, GET UP!_

He was toying with her now, a sadist streak rearing its ugly head. **_"I think you need a lesson on how to respect your superiors."_** His tone had dropped disturbingly low as he held out a lone hand a distance away from her. _ **"Now — BOW"**_.

Her already kneeled form collapsed in submission, her face hitting the wet ground below, groveling on her front as she was helpless against the pressure. She was _stronger_ than this. Luke, despite scratching the surface, had taught her some of the force's ways. But all strength had deserted her — just when she needed it most.

 ** _"That's better."_** He laughed maniacally, cackling cacophonously into the belly of the sky. _**"But not good enough..."** _ He began to twist his hand clockwise and she felt indescribable pain rip through her. This time her vocal cords complied and a blood-curdling scream tore from her throat, cutting the silence and stifling the rain.

She couldn't think nor see straight. Everything was a hazy blur now, as she barely registered the man slide a club from his black leather sleeve and grasp it in his right hand. He was directly above her now, eyeing her with pure distaste as he brought the club above his head— this was it: the moment she died. She steeled herself: thanking the mother she never knew for giving her what little life she had known and Luke: for taking her under his wing. She wanted to thank so many others, but the inevitability of death was but a few milliseconds away.

Just as he swung it down towards her, a crackling resounded like lightning. A shower of crimson sparks spraying over her as she looked up and saw a red beam of fire pierce her tormentor's chest and burst a brilliant white so bright that is seemed to burn the entirety of the heavens. And for once there was no darkness, only light. Her bathed in its carnelian glow as it cast out the shadows — her Phoenix of salvation. She could hear it hum to her, singing with ethereal recognition. She marveled at how something could be so beautiful yet so deadly.

The light dimmed back to its trademark bloodthirsty colour, the blade tilting downwards and the body skewered on it sliding sickly off. It slowly sagged to the ground next to her, falling as a crumpled heap.

She heard her saviour's voice boom like an oncoming storm.

 _ **"Anyone else who wishes to disobey my orders will face the same fate. But by all means, you are welcome to try."**_

As if by magic her strength returned to her —the masked phantom somehow giving her a power she'd never felt. She scurried to her feet in an instant, backing away slowly — wanting to put distance between her and this man whose power frightened her unlike anything she'd ever felt before.

If it was even possible, the rain fell down harder, harsher. The heavens quaked with roaring thunder, shaking the ground below her and sending her footing temporarily off kilter.

Yet he stood unshaken amongst the tempests, unyielding and still as a statue. A vision of steel with his feet planted firmly on the ground, seemingly unaffected by the chaos around him. The whip of his robes around his feet the only indication that he was there at all. The strips of black at his heels billowing subtlety in the raging winds.

She could feel the rain dripping off her shuddering form. The drops weaving small streams across her skin as she took in shallow, bated breaths. She felt as if everything was spinning, going too fast and out of control.

She was still watching him warily, too scared to look away when she felt their gazes lock. And suddenly it was just her and him: the only things that existed in that moment. She couldn't explain how but she just _knew_. As if she'd always known. Where there had been chaos, there was peace, calm — like being in the eye of a storm. A place where the constraints of time and space no longer held any meaning and fell away into oblivion. Everything simply stopped. Frozen. Nothing mattered anymore. She couldn't feel the rain lash at her skin, nor hear the clap of rumbling thunder or see the bolt of lightning scar the sky with a furious silvery gash. No.

His mask was an expressionless stoic barrier, watching her as intently as she did him. Something about their encounter had changed _everything_. She was perhaps too young to understand it now; too young to understand the ecstatic shiver through her being, the way her body hummed with rapture, or why goosebumps rose in knowing on her skin. A part of her knew something she did not. She could feel it in her chest— like a flower unfurling and blossoming there. It was the stirrings of deep-seated recognition. A remembrance that shook the very fabric of existence.

 _A sense of returning home..._

Strangely she found her feet were walking toward him of their own accord. As though she were in some kind of trance. Was he a Sorcerer too? She was spellbound, blindly surrendering to his beckoning. The lure of his magic coaxing her to his will. Yet she knew better. This was Force Persuasion. A very high level of telepathy. This was no mere Mind Trick used on non-force-sensitives and the weak minded. No. This power implemented a suggestion from the user who would then implant it into their intended target. It could override even the strongest of sensitives minds if mastered.

As a Padawan she was no match for such things. His aptitude with the force was like nothing she'd ever seen. The force did not simply flow through him. _It was him_ _— and he it_. Even with Master Luke her Force-Sense had never registered such symbiosis, such synthesis, such _oneness_. He had done what few had dared to imagine: he had fused with the force.

Her anxiety increased tenfold as her feet came to a final stop. She couldn't summon enough courage to look him in the eye. The moment shared between them _terrified_ her as much as it fascinated her.

 _ **"Interesting...Very interesting..."**_

With his saber now extinguished, he circled her, his cloak draping on the floor as he paced.

Every fibre of her logic told her to run. Told her to Force-flash to the nearest Starship port on Yavin 4. Yet she knew as soon as she took a step out of line, they would cut her down. Even if she somehow miraculously escaped the grasp of 6 Siths and a suspected Dark Lord, they would apprehend her within seconds. There was also a small part of her that told her to stay. She didn't know what hold he had on her, but she was inexplicably drawn to him.

He cut through her musings like butter.

 _ **"I applaud you for your audacity. But as you well know, your attempt would be in vain."**_

She did a double-take. Did he just _read her mind?_

She could've sworn she felt him smirk under his mask at her response.

He did another half-circle around her, his arms folded behind his back. His pace deliberate and purposeful. Each stride heavy with the power of the force, weighing and crushing down on her like a ton of Durasteel. For the second time that day she fell. Her teeth gritting as she tried to bear the pressure. She hated how weak she was compared to him. She knew she was merely a Padawan, but this was ridiculous. There was also the trauma of seeing people she could finally call friends, people she had fought and trained beside, slaughtered like animals. She had been at the Jedi Training Academy little more than a year, but these fallen innocents were her family. She could only hope that Luke and the rest of the Masters and Knights somehow escaped the massacre. They were the last and only hope for the Light now.

He stopped directly in front of her, crouching to her height. As if on instinct she activated a force-shield, fiery determination now fueling her strength. Yet he shattered it with the swish of his wrist, flicking her best efforts off like a fly.

 _ **"Don't waste my time, Padawan."**_

She still refused to look at him. Her eyes glued to the floor in front of her as though it was somehow the solution to her predicament.

To her surprise and utter shock he captured her chin with his finger and thumb, tilting her head upwards to meet his gaze. It was so light that she scarcely felt it. His thumb barely grazing her skin. She stared into the black endless depths of his visor. A flicker of being taken unaware flashing in her eyes before she swept it away, replacing it with burning resolve.

He seemed to look past her charade, look past the mask she plastered on in the face of adversity. He instead looked right into her, as though looking at her very soul. She felt a jolt of electricity course through her then, igniting each and every nerve.

He flinched away from her suddenly, as if burned.

 _Had he felt it too?_ Her own state of bewilderment mixed with a swell of pride at having temporarily stunned a Dark Lord.

She jumped as she heard a presence ring in her mind.

 _ **What are you? 'Who' are you?**_

She didn't know herself what had just transpired between them. But his sudden presence in her mind had startled her from a coherent answer.

The Sith — who had remained as passive onlookers, observing the proceedings with detached interest — now visibly tensed, as though receiving some unintelligible signal only privy to their organisation.

He waved them off with a flourish of his hand.

A different Sith holding a tall ornate Sidhe Staff approached. The headpiece of it was a pointed ovoid, gnarled twistings of wood encasing what she was surprised to see was a glowing purple Kyber Crystal. The handle inscribed with the runes of the Ancients — the agglutinative symbols of the Old Tongue.

His voice was smooth when he spoke, a charming undertone to his words. ** _"Much potential I sense in her. It would be a shame to waste such talents... And young too — she would be easy to mold to our ways."_**

Unlike the Sith before him, the leader was not severe on this ones council.

 ** _"Perhaps 'too' young."_**

The Sith was persistent. **_"There have been younger..."_**

The Dark Lord stood before her elapsed into silence, a thick aura beginning to gather around his frame like a black cloud, condensing more and more the longer the silence stretched.

There was something the Sith had read between the lines. Something everyone else had missed...

 ** _"You have compassion for her?"_** He had said it simply, but Rey doubted she had never heard anyone sound so incredulous.

A look passed between the two men. Speaking volumes that she could not decipher.

As if in understanding he asked again, this time differently. **_"What will you do with her?"_**

He let the stillness of silence fester for a moment. The hush of contemplation hanging in the air like an executioner's axe.

He stooped down next to her again. Something soft in his movements as he did so. The gravity of what he was to say weighing on conflicted shoulders. Then, almost tenderly, he laid two fingers on either side of her temples. She tried to squirm from her frozen stupor away from him as he was doing so. Fighting with brief resistance as he ghosted over her temples, before finally resting his fingers there. The contact causing her lashes to flush closed.

Through the fog of semi-lucidness, she could hear him ask something albeit distractedly.

 _ **"What's the nearest non-hostile planet in the Outer Rim?"**_

There was the sound of something distinctly holographic before responding. **_"Desert Planet Jakku — less than 1 Parsec away."_**

The feel of him in her mind was overwhelming, as though she was pressed up against him — no barriers to separate their touch.

His voice was seductive, captivating when he spoke to her. And she was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. It was like the finest of silks, passing through her consciousness like a steady stream of flowing water. Again she found herself in a trance, hypnotised again by—Mind Persuasion? No. This was something different, something much more potent than before. She found herself believing each word as he spoke it.

 ** _"Her power will fade with the passage of time. Lost and asleep amongst the deepest recesses of her mind. She will never know the true horrors of a force-sensitive. They will be myths in a children's storybook; legends lost amid the endless sands of Jakku — unreachable like the sky."_**

The continuous sweet lullaby of water stopped for a moment, wavering as if struggling.

 _ **"You will stay on Jakku, waiting for the return of a family you have never known. And you will grow-up and age like the desert grains — lost to the Universe and the vast desolate wasteland of Jakku, forever..."**_

She felt something pull on her mind, as though consciousness was leaving her. And suddenly everything faded to black...


	10. Revan

Okay Peepes so I know this Chapter is short as hell, but I wanted to see whether you all were still interested in reading it? This is a little taster on which direction I want this Fic to go in. Plz comment on whether you liked it or whatnot. If so, I'l defo be reprising this piece back up, and the chapter lengths will be super-duper long — pinky pwomise ;-) Enjoy!

* * *

He leaves her to get accustomed to the Temple, knowing full well that she wouldn't be disturbed there. No living thing alive could break the force-lock he'd placed on those doors. _No one..._

And even though it prevented her from escaping, he knew it was for her own good. Jedi indoctrination was a rigorous thing to uncondition, but it was possible with time. And he also knew that with time she would see things his way and succumb to the power inside of her — practically _begging_ to be set free.

He sighed. He was too impatient, always had been. He'd concoct and devise his plans and schemes and strategies, and then maneuver his pieces into position. Yet he'd always forget that his opponents weren't as apt at making their own: that they debilitated in responding. Perhaps prolonging the inevitability of their situation?

She could only resist him for so long. However the longer she did, the harder she would fall. She had always been a fighter, and she had always fallen the hardest because of it...

It seemed like a cruel twist of fate that their paths should've crossed again. Although if he was honest with himself, he was hardly surprised. They'd always managed to find a way back to one another. And although he could control many things, he could not control the Force's will.

How long had it been since he'd last felt her? 15 years maybe? However long it had been, it had been too long. Yet it had been the safest thing for her. Now that was compromised, and there was no turning back, not now. No, they'd find her again — just like all those years ago — and fashion her into the ultimate weapon against him.

 _He'd die before he'd let that happen..._

Good job he didn't plan on dying anytime soon.

He doubted the Force would ever let him finally rest. As long as there was unbalance in the Force, his soul and hers were destined to reincarnate again and again and again... until order and stability were forever restored to the Galaxy.

He rubbed at the bridge of his nose. No matter how hard he tried to prevent it; all and every of the lengths he'd gone through to sever her tie to a destiny that could only breed eternal misery, had all been in vain. She would never live a normal life. He was beginning to realise that now. That was her sentence along with his own: to be inexplicably and inextricably bound to each other, whilst losing one other again and again, for all eternity.

She was right when she'd said he was afraid. He was. Although her reasoning as to why had been wide off the mark, and he'd tricked her with fake surface thoughts into believing such. No, he'd surpassed Darth Vader 19 years ago at the prodigious age of 11. Before which he had already discovered that he was not in fact _'Ben Solo'_ , nor _'Kylo Ren'_. Those were identities given to him in this lifetime. He was **Revan** — _renowned the Revanchrist and honored as the Revan, reviled as Revan the Butcher, dreaded as the Dark Lord of the Sith Darth Revan and praised as the Prodigal Knight_. And he had been resurrected out of the ashes of the Old Republic to rise again anew into the era of the New Jedi Order...


End file.
